The Masters of Memory
by Mandarin Fiend
Summary: The Black Widow stumbles across a group that specializes in memory, that is the erasure and alteration of memories... Follows events of Winter Solider. Romanogers.
1. Chapter 1

**This fics begins a few months or so after The Winter Solider. Be warned: possible spoilers if you haven't seen it yet, also won't make as much sense. Enjoy :)**

**9pm**

When Steve Rogers arrived home he was hit with the strongest feeling déjà vu as he stood outside his apartment fishing for his keys in his back pocket.

It was just like that awful night he came home to find Fury in his apartment. He could hear music playing inside. _Angry_ music. It was the kind of music he'd privately dubbed 'Tony-tunes' after listening to the playlist Tony has loaded onto the i-pod he'd given him; it was all drum and gloomy minor chords.

Cautiously he opened the door and crept in, half expecting to once again find Fury sitting in his armchair looking unaffected and blasé despite the bullet holes in his leather trench coat.

There _was_ someone curled up his arm chair, but it wasn't Fury.

"Natasha?"

She was sitting in the shadows skulling something out of a can. She held up a hand motioning for him to wait until she finished. A moment later she tossed the can aside and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand grimacing.

"Hi Steve. Long time no see," she said, reaching into a plastic grocery bag on the floor by her feet to pull out another can. It'd been a few months since they'd last seen each other at Fury's 'grave'.

"Are you _drunk_?" asked Steve incredulously. She snorted derisively.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, pulling the tab to open her new can and taking a huge gulp.

Steve switched off the awful music, and Natasha made a face as she finished the second can.

Steve noticed other empty cans littered around his apartment... four large cans.

"What are you drinking?"

"Energy drinks. Tastes like liquefied candy floss mixed with cough mixture. I _hate_ energy drinks," she said the last part emphatically, crushing the can in her fist and tossing it aside like the others.

"You look nice," she said suddenly, staring at him with a strange sort of intensity, "did you finally ask out that nurse?"

"No…" Steve glanced down at the black suit he was wearing, a familiar lump rising in his throat that he thought he'd gotten rid of sometime in the past four hours, "I was at a funeral," he admitted quietly.

"Oh…" replied Natasha softly. He didn't have to explain, she understood.

Natasha stood and stumbled and it shocked Steve because it was so unlike her to be clumsy, but then she was wrapping her arms around him and standing on tiptoes so she could pat him on the back awkwardly, so he let it go.

"Can you give me a lift to Tony's?" she asked abruptly pulling away and looking at him with fevered eyes. Steve blanked for a moment at the blunt subject change, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"But you can _see_ Stark Tower from here. It's practically within walking distance…"

"Well will you come with me?"

"Hang on a minute-" Steve grabbed her by the shoulders and put her at arm's length, "I recognize that- _that's my shirt_!"

"I also took a pair of socks and I had a shower too, hope you don't mind," She replied with a shrug, ducking out of his hold.

"No, not at all, it looks much better on you than me anyway," he replied wryly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm glad we agree," she shot back.

"I'm just wondering why you didn't take any _pants_," he said, eying her bare knees.

"Your shirts, I look better in. Your pants, I don't think I could pull off," she admitted, as she bent over to pull yet another can of energy drink out of her grocery bag.

Steve switched on the light so he could look her over carefully. She was wearing his favorite blue checkered button down. His could see his black socks pulled up to mid-calf looking very loose on her much smaller feet.

Her hair was dripping wet and there were very dark bluish shadows under her eyes. She looked absolutely exhausted. She had a bandage wrapped tightly around her left forearm and he could see a pinkish tinge on one side where it seemed blood was seeping through.

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh that's right; I borrowed your first aid kit too." Steve stared at her for a moment and she stared right back with that weird intensity.

"Alright, I'm going to need you to tell me what is going on. You are acting _very_ strangely." He said.

"It's a long story; I'll explain when we get there. I don't want to go through everything twice."

"When we get where?"

"Tony's, remember? You're giving me a lift." Steve had a funny feeling she wanted him to come to act as a buffer, meaning she was probably going to tell Tony something unpleasant.

"Right… Okay fine. Let's go." He gave up. Tony would figure out what was wrong with her. He would go along to make sure they didn't kill each other.

"You aren't going to bring your shield?" she said in a tone that highly suggested he bring his shield.

"Are we expecting trouble?"

"Well maybe, I think you should bring it. Just in case."

"Fine, hang on."

He went to his room and quickly changed into casual clothes, not wanting to ruin his only suit and wondering what on earth Natasha had gotten herself into. He strapped his shield onto his back.

When he returned to the living room Natasha had pulled on her boots and thrown on her leather jacket over his shirt. Good thing the shirt was so big it could pass for a dress on her.

She skulled her fifth or sixth can of energy drink as he lead the way out of the apartment over to the elevator.

Steve was about to press the button to go down when the elevator dinged and opened to reveal three large men in black suits all holding hand guns. He threw out an arm and ushered Natasha back around the corner quickly.

"_What number was the apartment again?"_

"_3c? Or was it d?" _

"_Pretty sure it was 3c-"_

They sneaked into the stairwell and ducked as the men walked past towards Steve's door.

"They're going to trash my apartment aren't they?" he deadpanned.

"Well, at least we know where that trouble I was expecting is. Or should we beat them up before they go in?"

"You know what, _yes_. I'd prefer that. I already had to buy new furniture after what happened with Fury."

"Go ahead Cap, lead the way."

He took out two with a well-aimed throw of his shield, while Natasha delivered a round house kick to the head of the third.

"I'll take that…" muttered Natasha under her breath divesting the men of their guns. She strapped one onto each of her thighs high enough that the shirt covered them, and held the third in a tight grip.

"Don't I get a gun? I think I deserve one. I did take out most of them," said Steve jokingly.

"Very funny, let's go." she gave him a funny little half smile that often appeared on her face when he made lame jokes she found funny despite herself. She kept the guns for herself, but she did find a hand grenade which she handed over and Steve pocketed.

They took the stairs down to the basement where the parking lot was.

Natasha scoffed when he offered her the helmet.

"C'mon, there are people after you. Red isn't exactly the most inconspicuous color," he said gesturing to her still wet hair.

"I guess you have a point," she said, accepting the proffered helmet.

Steve attached the shield to the front of his motorcycle and swung his leg over in a smooth practiced motion.

Natasha slid on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist tightly.

As he pulled out into traffic he saw a black SUV with tinted windows quickly pull away from the curb in front of his apartment building.

"Did you see that?" he said over his shoulder. He felt her nod against his back. He also heard the distinctive click of the gun being taken out of safety.

"Hold on tight!"

He sped up and wove through traffic, and the Black SUV followed. He swerved down a small side street suddenly and the SUV careened forward, unable to maneuver so quickly.

'I think we lost them' was on the tip of his tongue when a second SUV appeared at the end of the road in front of them. He slammed on the breaks and swerved around to drive in the opposite direction just as the other car showed up again. They were blocked from both ends.

Natasha shot at the car in front of them until the glass shattered and then Steve pulled the pin out of the grenade and threw it in with unerring accuracy.

He swerved around again and floored it just as the grenade went off.

Men spilled out of the other car in front of them with guns. Just as they opened fire, Steve swerved to the left. Natasha must have caught on to his idea because she shot out the windows of the glass store front of the café on the corner, and they drove right through diagonally to the road on the other side.

He rode hard for a few blocks, twisting and turning haphazardly. He didn't want to lead them back to Stark Tower.

Eventually he spotted a bus up ahead stopped at a bus stop on the opposite side of the road. He pulled over quickly, grabbing his shield and pulling Natasha along with him. She took off the helmet and left it beside the bike. As they ran for the bus, she covertly dropped the two guns she'd emptied into a storm water drain.

They made it in just before the doors closed.

The old bus driver gave the shield a strange look, but accepted Steve's money and pulled away from the curb. The only other passenger was an elderly woman reading a magazine who paid them no heed.

They took a seat next to each other towards the back and Steve shoved the shield down under their seat.

He pulled his hood over his head and Natasha sunk low in her seat to be obscured by him.

They both let out a relieved breath a black SUV sped past the bus in the opposite direction.

They got off three stops later a couple blocks from Stark Tower and begin to walk towards it.

Halfway there Natasha stumbled, and would have fallen into the gutter if Steve hadn't steadied her.

"Natasha…" he said, clicking his fingers in front of her unfocused eyes. She blinked and shook her head as if she were trying to clear it.

"Sorry I nearly fell asleep." Her face was pale and her hands were trembling. He was starting to get seriously worried about her…

"Natasha, are you okay? You didn't get hit back there did you?" She rubbed her hands over her eyes roughly.

"I'm fine, just tired. Adrenaline rush wore off. Let's just get to Stark Tower, and then I'll explain."

They walked briskly down a small alley that opened onto the street Stark Tower was on.

"Wait." Said Steve suddenly, making Natasha pause.

"Look, there. The guys in the black suits."

Natasha peered around the corner, and then pulled back with a disgruntled huff.

"Idiots. They're _so_ conspicuous."

"I guess they anticipated that you'd come to me or Stark. They've covered their bases," said Steve, glancing around the corner again. He took note of where they were standing, how their hands were resting above where their guns were most likely concealed. There were three of them.

"I don't think Tony would appreciate us leaving bodies on his doorstep," said Natasha.

"I don't think we want them knowing where we are," replied Steve thinking hard.

Just then a boy on an electric scooter came down the alley, and light bulb lit up in Steve's head.

He moved and blocked the scooter's path, making the boy skid to a halt.

"Dude what's the matter with you! Get out of the way!" it was a pizza delivery boy, no older than 18 or 19 with a spotty face and limbs too long for his body.

"Want to make an easy hundred bucks?" asked Steve. The boy eyed him suspiciously, and then Natasha stepped forward with a look that that was all honey and promises.

"Pretty please?"

"How?" asked the boy, mesmerized by her smile.

"Deliver this to Stark Tower; just leave it with the security guard. Also, give me your hat."

The boy's eyes bulged at the shield Steve pulled off his back.

"Is _this_, I-I mean _are_ you-"

"We just want to play a little prank on Ironman. You'll help us won't you?" said Natasha sweetly.

"S-sure."

The boy inspected the bill Steve handed him closely before deeming it authentic and tucking it away in his pocket. He handed over the hat, and Steve handed over the shield, which the boy tucked into the bag he usually kept pizzas in.

"Once you're done, get out of here," said Steve sternly.

"Sure man, but first… Can I take a picture with you?" the question was aimed at Natasha with boyish hopefulness.

"Only if you keep this a secret," said Steve quickly.

"My lips are sealed," said the kid reverently.

"Make it quick," said Natasha drily, glaring at Steve with no real heat. The kid flicked down the scooter stand with one foot and pulled out his phone.

He inserted himself between Steve and Natasha, surreptitiously elbowing the former in the arm to get out of the way.

He held up the phone and grinned like he'd won the lottery, while Natasha obliged him with a half-smile as the flash went off, then he got back on his scooter and flicked the stand back up.

"I just want to say, I'm a big fan and you're really hot," were his parting words before speeding off around the corner.

Steve couldn't help the snicker that escaped between his lips, although it was quickly stifled by the dirty look Natasha threw at him.

"Alright _'man with a plan,'_ what's part two?" she said tiredly.

"First we wait a little, then I'm borrowing a little off something that was your idea. Here, put this on," said Steve, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it around her shoulders. She obliged him and slipped her arms through the sleeves as he jammed the borrowed hat on his head.

The jacket looked ridiculous on her, but that was the point. With the hood over her head she was practically swallowed and indistinguishable.

"Are you going to 'laugh' at something I said?" said Natasha casually, pushing up the sleeves so she could put her hands in the pockets.

"Something like that," replied Steve, peering round the corner just in time to see the pizza boy successfully speeding off away from them.

"C'mere," he said, holding out an arm.

She walked over and he clamped it over her shoulders firmly.

"Follow my lead on this one. No offence, but you suck at improving, almost as much as you suck at lying," said Natasha.

"I'm not that bad…" spluttered Steve. She gave him a pitying look, but didn't say anything else as they rounded the corner strolling casually.

Steve tensed up immediately. He found himself staring at the three men, waiting for them to look up and recognize them. He couldn't help it, he'd never been subtle.

Natasha snorted, and said "You suck."

Suddenly she pushed him off her, and in a voice very unlike her own, she hissed at him at him, "I saw you! Don't deny it, you were flirting with her!"

"W-what?" his bewildered expression was not fake.

"I can't do this anymore! You're on your own!" she said, and then she turned and stormed away from him.

"Hang on a minute!" said Steve, jogging to catch her, and grabbing her arm to turn her towards him, but she wretched it out of his grip and continued marching away.

"I didn't do anything! I really don't know what you're talking about!" he said to her back pleadingly. She ignored him.

"Please, wait up." He managed to grab her hand and pull her around. She gave a very convincing sniff, and then she was sobbing noisily into her hands. Steve knew it was for show, but he still felt horrible.

"Hey, please don't cry. I'm sorry…" he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, feeling more than a little panicked.

"Y-you _promised_ you'd be there! Then I saw you with her!" Natasha said brokenly.

"I-I really don't know what you're talking about..." he said desperately.

"You're a terrible liar," said Natasha in a low voice, but Steve could see her face, and the amused glint in her eyes.

She turned her back on him and marched towards the door to Stark Tower.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"I need to use the bathroom." She snapped back marching in through the revolving door.

He followed quickly, accidentally catching the eye of one of the guys they were trying to avoid, but before he could panic the guy gave him a sympathetic look that seemed to say _'I feel ya buddy' _and then he turned away.

Blinking in surprise Steve entered the building just as easily.

* * *

Tony gave them all security clearance cards after New York. Steve fished his out of his wallet, using it for the umpteenth time to flash the security guard who nodded them through.

They got in an elevator and Steve swiped his card and pressed the button for the top floor. Natasha yawned widely, before removing Steve's jacket and handing it back to him.

"That was horrible," he said stonily, accepting the jacket and shoving his arms through the sleeves with jerky movements.

"Public displays of aggression make people uncomfortable," said Natasha with a smirk, which quickly turned into a yawn.

"Yeah? Well _I_ prefer what we did last time," he grumbled.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," she shot back.

The elevator dinged as they reached their destination. They were on the floor where they had apprehended Loki the year before.

The damage had been repaired for the most part, but Steve could still see the indentation of Loki where the Hulk had smashed him. He could see Natasha staring at it too, a faint smile on her lips, and then she was yawning again.

"Did you know that being sleep deprived produces the same effects as being lobotomized? Your frontal lobe literally shuts down," she said suddenly.

"Has the good ol'Cap been depriving you of sleep Nat? I'll be honest, didn't think you had it in you Steve."

They both just rolled their eyes as Tony appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"So what brings you guys to visit? Can I get you anything to drink?"

"-No thanks."

"-Coffee?"

"Did you hear that Jarvis?"

"_I did indeed. Coffee for the lady coming up. And for you sir?"_

"Hmm, how about a Martini? You know how I like it."

"_Wonderful selection sir."_

"Go ahead, take a seat, welcome to my humble abode. So are you guys going steady? Is that what you came here to tell me?" Steve blinked.

"Why would you think-"

"Jarvis, the footage if you please. Put it on the big wall. Oh, and dim the lights."

"_Yes sir_."

Security camera footage of them kissing each other on the escalator played, and the images were almost life size. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You've been sitting on this for a while haven't you?" he said exasperatedly.

"Jarvis, let's play it again, but this time can you zoom in-"

"Okay Stark you've had your fun, but we actually have something serious we need to discuss with you." said Steve reaching the end of his patience.

Usually he humored Tony, but it had been trying day for him even _before_ Natasha had shown up.

Tony sighed exaggeratedly.

"Fine. Jarvis, lights," said Tony snapping his fingers. The room brightened again.

"_Your drinks are ready sir."_

"Thank you kindly." A tray rolled over the stopped in front of Natasha first; who grabbed the coffee and downed it before Tony even had the chance to grab his. She took a breath, and then launched into her story.

"I was in East Russia when I caught wind of a group that specializes in memory, that is the erasure and alteration of memories, and I thought I'd check it out because I thought they could have had something to do with why your friend didn't remember you." She gestured to Steve before continuing.

"Long story short, I stole this Intel," she pulled a USB from her jacket pocket and tossed it to Tony.

"That has information on all their methods. I got a bit cocky though and let them capture me hoping to get a bit more information, but I miscalculated. They got their new memory serum into my system. Once I fall asleep, the serum will be activated and it will suppress _all_ my memories. At least… that's what they think it'll do. It was untested. They put a homing beacon in my arm and they were waiting for me to fall asleep so they could see what would happen."

She held up her arm gesturing to the bandage which was now soaked through,

"Needless to say I escaped and got rid of the homing beacon. I kept myself awake and came back here. They have men in the city, they knew I'd come here, also knew I'd come to you and Steve for help. I was hoping you could come up with something to counteract it with."

"Hang on a minute," injected Steve, "So, _how long has it been since you slept?_"

"About a week now I think, maybe a week and a half, I've lost track," replied Natasha nonchalantly. Steve's jaw dropped. No wonder she'd been acting so strangely.

"A week!?" he cried in shock.

"Well shit…" said Tony almost sounding sympathetic, "You do realize that I'm an ingenious engineer? Not a doctor, or a chemist." he said.

"Well maybe between you and Banner you can figure something out? I don't have a clue where he is, I was also hoping that if you couldn't help me, you could point me in his direction."

"I can contact him. I'll see if he can come back. In the mean time I'll look through all this," he held up the USB, "but Natasha, I don't know how long this will take. Longer than a couple days… You're going to have to sleep and maybe forget everything."

"I know. Which is the part I'm worried about…"

"Is that why you dragged me along? To make sure Tony doesn't mess with you?" asked Steve curiously.

"Well, partly."

"I take that as a personal affront. I would never dream of messing with you if you were to lose all your memories!" said Tony theatrically. Steve and Natasha just looked at him.

"Okay fine, you got me." He said raising his hands in defeat.

"What I'm more worried about it how I'll react," continued Natasha, "I could seriously injure someone. I haven't had the most peaceful life… If I didn't have any memories and I was just running on instinct, I could potentially run around trying to kill everyone I come across."

"I could get Happy to watch her?" suggested Tony looking at Steve. He shook his head.

"No, no offense to Happy, but Natasha would get by him way too easily if she flipped out. How about Hawkeye?" Natasha shook her head.

"He's in Europe with Fury."

"So it has to be me then," said Steve slowly.

"If that's alright with you?" asked Natasha looking at him. He knew what she was really asking, _'Do you mind postponing your search for Bucky?'_

"It's fine." He said with a reassuring smile. Natasha breathed a sigh of relief.

"So Cap, you're on babysitting. Make sure she doesn't break anything or kill anybody. You can take the 20th floor, it's for guests anyway. I'll get Maria, you guys remember Maria right? I'll get her to put together a team and deal with the guys in the city."

"Tell her to call Sam if she needs any help. He'll be itching for some action. We've been grounded for the past week." Tony gave him that raised eyebrow look that said - I know perfectly well you haven't been grounded because I _fixed_ Falcon a week ago - but he let it go. For now.

"Alright. Let me know when she wakes up, Bruce will probably want to run some tests... Sweet dreams." With that, Tony drained the rest of his Martini and went over to his computer to plug in the USB. They were dismissed.

"C'mon." said Steve gently, leading Natasha to the elevator. Now that she knew it was inevitable; the fight to stay awake seemed to have drained out of her.

Steve nudged Natasha a little as her head slumped against the side of the elevator, and it snapped back up. She flashed him a grateful look.

They got off on the 20th floor like Tony said.

"Before you pass out, you better let me redress that arm," said Steve practically.

She followed him to the bathroom docilely.

"Jarvis, where's a first aid kit?"

"_Cabinet on the left Mr. Rogers." _

Steve found it and grabbed out new dressing, cotton swabs and some antiseptic.

He had her sit on the edge of the bathtub, and she leaned against the wall tiredly, holding out her arm dutifully, blinking drowsily.

Steve knelt in front of her gently unwrapped the bloodied bandage. He grimaced at the wound revealed underneath.

It wasn't big, but it was _deep_. She'd obviously had to _gouge_ out the homing beacon.

"I think it needs stitches…" voiced Steve reluctantly.

"Can you do it?" asked Natasha tiredly.

"Yes. I have in the past, but it would be better if we took you to a real hospital or got a real doctor-" Natasha shook her head tiredly.

"I'm about to pass out. Just get it done quickly."

"Jarvis, does Stark keep any pain killers in here?"

"_I believe there is some tramadol in the second drawer."_

"I hate that stuff, it always gives me headaches. Just do it Steve. I'm too tired to feel anything and I've had worse in any case."

"Are you sure?" she just looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Alright fine…" Steve acquiesced with a frown. He looked through the first aid kit and found a curved needle and sutures sealed in sterilized plastic pockets.

First he cleaned up the wound a bit, gently clearing away the excess blood and disinfecting the area.

"This is going to pinch a bit," he warned, needle poised and ready.

She didn't even flinch. It took five sutures to close up. Steve was pleased with his efforts, they were neat and precise.

He wrapped up her arm tightly with a white bandage.

"There you can sleep now," he declared.

Natasha stood and swayed for a moment before placing one foot on front of the other in what was obviously a concentrated effort.

She stumbled over to the nearest bedroom, falling face first onto the bed without even bothering to take off her shoes or jacket.

Steve did that for her, and even managed to coax her into taking off the remaining gun strapped to her thigh.

"Steve?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yes?"

"In my jacket pocket, give me the letter in there when I wake up okay? Sorry about this…"

"Don't worry about it."

"Also, whatever you do, _don't_ let me get my hands on any weapons."

"Okay. I won't."

She was out before he pulled the blankets over her.

**What did you think? Review please! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, reviews motivate me to keep writing. I have made some changes to the first chapter so if you read it awhile before this chapter was posted it would probably be a good idea to reread/skim over it again, especially the second half. Anyways, enjoy :)**

People had always been so focused on the _physical_ enhancements the serum gave him, that testing the limits of the _mental_ ones had always fell by the wayside.

It made sense, the physical enhancements were immediately tangible; you only had to _look_ at him and all those muscles to know that he was stronger, faster, the very pinnacle of physical human potential.

After everything that happened with S.H.I.E.L.D, he began testing himself. He could definitely process things much more quickly, and once he read, saw, or learned something, he didn't forget it. _Couldn't_ forget it.

After Natasha fell into what looked like a very deep and peaceful slumber, Steve found some paper and a pencil and began drawing.

He'd always liked art, and even before the enhancements he wasn't bad at putting lines on paper. With the enhancements his hands were steadier; he hardly needed an eraser because whatever he saw in his mind seemed to magically appear on the paper.

He drew each of the men they'd encountered that night, proportional in terms of height to each other, along with a profile drawing. There were six, one of each of the men stationed outside Stark tower and one for each of the men they'd encountered outside his apartment.

On a seventh piece of paper he roughly sketched several of the men that had spilled out of the SUV. It had been dark, but he did catch a split second glimpse of their faces. It wasn't enough to tell how tall they were or their builds, but it was enough for him to memorize their features and recognize them again if he saw them. It was also enough for him to draw an accurate likeness of them.

All in all the drawings took him a little over half an hour.

Afterwards he checked on Natasha, who was still fast asleep, before going back up.

When Steve stepped out of the elevator, Tony was in a tizzy. He had holographic screens opened all over the place and seemed to be simultaneously pacing agitatedly, ordering Jarvis to do things, and arguing with Bruce over speakerphone.

"Tony, remind me again, who has a MD?" Bruce's disembodied voice was saying.

"Well I bet you didn't graduate at the top of your class with honors when you were 17. If you want to fight dirty, I'll fight dirty." Tony snapped back teasingly, frantically typing on one of the myriad of screens in front of him.

"_Sir, are you sure you want me to run that program?"_

"_Of course_ I'm sure. Why would I have asked you to do it otherwise? That's why I wrote the program. Run the program!" he said dramatically with a flourish.

"You forget my PhD in nuclear physics," said Bruce good-naturedly.

"I did a semester of art school," said Steve, announcing his presence.

"Ah, nice of you to join us. Steve, Bruce wants a CT scan _and_ an fMRI scan of Natasha's brain as she sleeps. Creepy huh? " said Tony.

"Tony, are you sure you know how to run those tests properly?" asked Bruce.

"I've been reading how to do it for the past ten minutes. I have complete confidence in myself. How hard can it be?" Bruce chuckled.

"Alright fine, I'll see you soon."

"He'll be here tomorrow," explained Tony for Steve's benefit.

"Jarvais, keep running that program while I'm gone."

"_Of course sir."_

"Where are you going?"

"_We're_ going to a psych research facility. It should have the hardware we need, and there shouldn't be anyone around to bother us. You go get sleeping beauty and bring her up here. We'll take my chopper."

"Hang on a minute, are you sure that's a good idea? There are people in the city looking for us. We should lay low. What if they attack again?"

"That's why you're coming with us big guy, security detail. We _need_ to monitor what's going on in her brain, and I don't have an fMRI scanner handy right now. Is she already asleep?"

"She was out as soon as her head touched the pillow-"

"We better hurry then. Go get her."

"And what if she wakes up?" Steve didn't want to get his head taken off.

"According to the information she gave us, she _can't_. Not until the process has completed changing her brain chemistry."

"And how long will that take?"

"_We don't know_. That's partly why we need to scan her brain."

"Okay fine, I'll go get her, but you take these," Steve handed him the drawings; "These are the guys that attacked us. These three were outside my place, these three are probably still outside this tower and these ones I only caught a glimpse of, but they were following us here."

Tony's eyes got wider and wider as he shuffled through the drawings, and it made Steve shift his weight uneasily with the realization that he'd hadn't shown anyone anything he's drawn since… At least since before he was frozen.

"_Did you draw these_?" asked Tony in what seemed to be astonishment. Steve couldn't be sure; he'd never witnessed Tony astonished before.

"Yeah... I figured it would help Maria and her team if they could identify who they were looking for," explained Steve sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"These are like fucking _photographs_!" cried Tony shaking the drawings at him.

"Tony…" chastised Steve with a frown at his language.

Tony ignored him and laid the pictures out on one of his work benches.

"Jarvis scan these and see what you can pull for us."

"_Yes sir."_

Another screen popped up and soon they had the name and occupation of all of the men. They were all ex-S.H.I.E.L.D agents, meaning they were probably hydra.

Tony stared at real shots of the men and compared them with Steve's drawings.

"So the serum didn't just give you muscles... Or is this something you could do before?" he asked.

"I drew before. I wasn't kidding; I did actually go to art school for a while. The serum just helps keep images in my head long enough to get them down on paper." What he left unsaid was that the serum kept images in his head _forever_, but Tony threw him a calculating stare that made Steve think he already knew.

"Jarvis get me Hill on the line."

A ringing sound filled the room, and then there was Maria's disembodied voice, "Yes Stark?"

"I'm forwarding you some people to take care of. You might recognize some of them, they're ex-S.H.I.E.L.D."

Tony squinted at the screen in front of him and read off three names, "Anderson, Fig, and Rowlands are outside the Tower right now apparently."

"You'll probably find Oliver, Connor, and Hickory knocked out in the stairwell of the building I live in. Third floor," added Steve.

"Oh and give Sam a ring and see if he wants to lend a hand. He's been _grounded_ this week," said Tony shooting Steve a meaningful look, which Steve ignored.

"On it sir. Would you like me to add an extra security detail to Miss Potts?" asked Maria.

"I already did. Send me updates."

"Yes sir."

"You better go get the sleeping princess. Chopper will be here any minute now," said Tony.

* * *

Natasha was no longer sleeping peacefully when Steve got to her. She was trembling, her brow was furrowed and her breathing was shallow and labored.

He put a hand on her curve of her cheek and it was very cold to the touch. He frowned.

The last time he'd seen her this small and vulnerable they'd just had missiles shot at them. When she was awake she seemed so very capable and worldly. The contrast with the seemingly fragile young woman in front of him was jarring, and he didn't like it.

He gathered her up and lifted her carefully, blanket and all. She didn't stir as he settled her more comfortably in his arms, her head cradled perfectly in the curve between his shoulder and chest.

She huddled closer to him in her sleep, probably seeking warmth.

With a metabolism that ran three times faster than an average human, Captain America was nothing if not warm.

He hurried back up, relived to see that her shivering lessened with his arms around her.

"Ah good the chopper's here. Seeing as your hands are full shall I take this for you?" said Tony tapping his shield, which had somehow ended up leaning against the work bench.

"Uhh, sure. Thanks," replied Steve.

"You should probably tell me what happened before you guys got here. I thought you might be pulling a prank on me when security told me some kid dropped it off, but then I remembered who you are."

"What do you mean?"

"I remembered you're 95 and far too _mature_ to pull pranks," he didn't say mature like it was a good thing.

"70 of those years don't really count because I was unconscious," replied Steve exasperatedly.

Tony snapped his fingers and all the holographic screens popped out of existence. He put the shield on one arm and strutted over to the door, in what was obviously meant to be an impersonation of Captain America.

Steve snorted, "I _don't_ walk like that."

Tony let out a spontaneous battle cry and pretended to throw the shield.

"Shesh, and you throw this thing like a Frisbee. I mean, its light compared to stainless steel, but then again what isn't?" said Tony scrutinizing the surface of the shield and taking stock of its weight.

"Tony_, focus_. Didn't you say we have a limited time frame to get this done?"

"Right, yes. Let's roll."

Steve followed him out through a ranch door that led to the roof, where Tony's helicopter was idling.

Steve climbed in first very carefully with Natasha, and then Tony followed, shutting the door behind them. He banged the ceiling of the helicopter like it was a cab, signaling to the pilot to take off.

Steve moved to put Natasha on the seat next to him, but Tony frantically motioned for him to keep her in his lap.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, but then realized he probably shouldn't jostle her too much, and it wasn't like she was crushing him.

Then Tony pulled his phone out and took a picture. Steve would have face-palmed if he had a hand free because_ of course _Tony had to ruin something that seemed well-intentioned.

"What are do you think you're doing?!" he yelled over the whirring of the helicopter.

"Collecting blackmail material!" Tony yelled back gleefully.

* * *

A short journey later, the helicopter dipped low over the roof of the research facility. They disembarked and Tony told the pilot to circle the block.

He produced a key card from his jacket pocket and swiped it to let them in.

"Are we allowed to be in here?" asked Steve in a whisper. The building was dark and silent, Steve felt like the situation called for lowered voices.

"Not technically," replied Tony at normal volume, "I mean, I own the building so technically yes, but I got a trespass notice after what happened the last time I was here-"

"-I don't want to know," cut in Steve quickly. Tony chucked.

"Suit yourself. Now I think the room we want is this way…"

They took the elevator down several floors, and then Tony led them into a room which oddly reminded Steve of the laboratory where he received the serum in 1940, despite being much more high tech.

In the middle of the room there was an intimidating gleaming white piece of machinery. It ran from the ceiling to the floor, with a huge white ring and a platform where Steve presumed the person was supposed to go.

Across the room there was a series of computers, which Tony hurried towards. He booted them up and started typing away.

"Quick, put her there," said Tony in his no-nonsense scientist voice, gesturing vaguely towards the platform. Steve complied immediately.

"Also make sure she doesn't have anything metal on her. It's _really_ important."

Steve gave her a quick look over. He'd gotten rid of the gun, his shirt was cotton, and he didn't feel anything metal and sharp when she was pressed against him as he carried her…

"Don't be a prude Cap, pat her down properly," said Tony without taking his eyes off the computer screen, "You and I both know she probably has _something _sharp hidden on her."

Steve signed and kept his touch light and impersonal as it brushed over her, ignoring the swooping sensation in this stomach.

Tony was right; Steve found a butterfly knife tucked into the strap of her bra and a very thin switch blade hidden down the ankle of a sock.

"I think we're good," he declared once he was sure there was nothing else.

Tony hurried over to the machine, adjusting knobs on the side, before affixing a white cap, not unlike Steve's cowl, to Natasha's head.

"Alright! Let's fire this bad boy up!" Tony pressed a button on the machine and a low electronic hum filled the room. The platform Natasha was resting on slide backwards until her head was in the bowels of the machine.

He scurried back over to the computer screens and resumed typing.

"So is this the CAT scan or the fMRI one?" asked Steve, feeling distinctly useless just standing there.

"fMRI," replied Tony absently.

"What does fMRI stand for?" asked Steve.

"Functional magnetic resonance imaging," replied Tony.

"…Right."

"The other scan we're going to do after this is a 'Computed Axial Tomography scan.'"

"I thought you said it was called a CT scan. Shouldn't it be called a CAT scan then?"

"Yeah they call it that too."

"It seems silly to have multiple names for the same thing…" Tony snorted.

"Welcome to science," he said wryly, "Scientists, _especially_ biologists,_ love_ to fight over nomenclature."

"So what's the difference between a 'computed axial tomography scan' and 'functional magnetic resonance imaging'?"

"One uses x-rays and the other measures blood flow. Basically. That is, _very_ basically," said Tony without taking his eyes off the screens in front of him. He frowned deeply and stroked his goatee.

"What is it? How does her brain look?" asked Steve.

"In my very limited experience and humble opinion, _not_ normal," replied Tony with a grimace, "Have a look for yourself."

Steve left Natasha's side and went to stand behind Tony.

"Just looks like blobs of color to me."

"Those blobs of color are all over her temporal lobe. That's where memory is stored. Basically, there's a lot of suspicious activity going on in that area."

"So what should we do?" asked Steve worriedly.

"Nothing much we really can do at this point. I'm going to record the activity for a bit. Get comfortable Cap, we're going to be here for a while," said Tony.

Steve leaned against the wall beside the door, taking up a defensive position, and Tony sat in a swivel chair and put his feet up on the desk. He appeared to be engrossed with something on his phone; Steve suspected he was playing Galaga. They fell into a companionable silence.

Twenty minutes later Tony's phone started beeping.

"Uh-oh…" said Tony.

"What do you mean 'uh-oh'?" said Steve striding over.

"I connected Jarvis into the security mainframe to keep an eye out for hostiles. We have some coming this way now," he typed something and the camera feed replaced the images of Natasha's brain on the computer screen.

There were four guys dressed in swat gear and they were rushing up the stairs.

"How much longer do you need for this?" asked Steve.

"What I _really_ need is to monitor her for a couple hours, but seeing as I'll have nothing to monitor if they put a bullet in her brain, we better blow this joint. Give me a few minutes to wrap up and salvage something."

"On it. Rendezvous in ten on the roof?"

"Make it five! They're on the 3rd floor and counting."

Steve ran to the stairwell and hid one fight of stair up and waited.

"_Move move! Get to the roof! That's their extraction point we'll ambush them there-"_

He jumped down and punched the guy in the lead over the bannister. His yelp of surprise was cut short by his impact with the stairs the next floor down.

The others opened fired with their machine guns, but the rounds clattered off the shield as if they were rain drops.

Steve swiped one guy's legs out from under him once his ammo ran out, delivering a quick jab to the guy's face resulting in a resounding crack.

He pushed one guy back with his shield, causing him to fly clear across the stairwell. He impacted the wall with a dull thud and slid down.

The last guy was desperately trying to reload his gun, while frantically yelling for back up through his coms.

Steve ripped the gun out of his grip and wacked him over the head with it. He crumpled to the ground.

With that, Steve sprinted up the stairs. Just as he burst out on the top floor, the elevator dinged and Tony appeared pushing Natasha on a stretcher.

"Where did you get that?" asked Steve suspiciously.

"Ah perfect timing! Grab her. The chopper should be here any second," said Tony, ignoring his question.

Steve lifted Natasha just as the distinctive sound of the helicopter could be heard descending faintly. Tony opened the door leading to the roof, and then slammed it shut again, his face annoyed.

"Well that's inconvenient," he said.

"What is?"

Tony rushed across the hallway and grabbed the stretcher.

"Tony, what are you doing!?" demanded Steve as Tony rushed back past him.

"That wasn't my chopper, it was their back up." he explained as he jammed the stretcher against the door, wedging it shut.

His phone beeped again, and whatever Tony saw on it made him roll his eyes.

"More hostiles. Coming up in the elevator this time. We better to take the stairs, hang on just let me…"

Tony broke the glass on the fire emergency button and pressed it. Immediately a keen wailing siren pierced the air.

"That should slow them down!" he yelled, "I had Jarvis lock the elevator door, but we better run anyway!"

Steve led the way, with Tony not far behind. They ran past the still forms of the guys Steve had already taken out without slowing. They were down to the 2nd floor when they heard a huge bang that sounded an awful lot like the bad guys had used a grenade to get in.

They burst into dark entrance foyer, and sprinted out of the building just as emergency vehicles started arriving. A crowd had started gathering to watch what all the fuss was about. Steve looked back to see smoke coming off the roof in wafts.

A team of EMTs rushed towards them with a stretcher. Steve looked to Tony, who gave him an imperceptible nod, before laying Natasha down.

"She's fine, she just fainted from the shock of the alarm going off while we were in the building-" Tony went off on a tangent that somehow perfectly explained their presence. It never ceased to amaze Steve how good Tony was at bullshitting. A minute later the three of them were in an ambulance pulling away from the scene. Steve saw a helicopter cut across the night sky, then they turned a corner and he lost sight of it.

* * *

En route Tony asked what hospital they were going to, before whipping out his phone and firing off some messages.

"When we arrive, get her and meet on the roof," Tony muttered to him under his breath while the EMT was distracted taking Natasha's vitals.

A stolen lab coat, and an elaborate distraction later, Steve pushed Natasha's stretcher into the roof where thankfully Tony's chopper was waiting.

They arrived back at Stark tower battered, exhausted, and annoyed.

"That was ridiculous!" ranted Tony stalking into Stark Tower, "That's it; I'm just going to _build _one. It literally would have easier if I just built an fMRI machine right here. Jarvis! Order me some antenna wires. Also magnets, the most powerful ones you can find. I'll need blue-prints, download them now-"

"You're going to build one? Right _now_?" cried Steve incredulously.

"Why didn't we just do that to start off with? I built Ironman_. _I created a whole new _element_ for fucks sake. A meager fMRI machine should be a piece of cake. Elementary." Tony had that fevered glint of determination in his eyes, nothing would dissuade him.

The least Steve could do was make sure he didn't set his lab on fire, or make anything explode, or get so exasperated with dummy that he dissembled it.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, trying to infuse his voice with enthusiasm he didn't feel.

"Put the princess to sleep and come back up."

* * *

The rest of the night was a blur of Tony barking orders, and him lifting heavy objects. He left Tony to it once they had assembled something that vaguely resembled the sleek machine they'd used briefly.

By the time he stumbled back down to the 20th floor he was starving, but too exhausted to bother finding anything to eat. He lay down on the couch intending to rest for a moment, but he fell fast asleep quickly.

He was woken with a start by the unsettling feeling of someone watching him. It was daytime.

Steve sat up quickly, and then he saw her. She was standing in the doorway of her room and it was obvious that she too had just woken up.

She was frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. Steve stood and took a step towards her and her eyes grew impossibly wider as they raked over him.

Her hair was mussed and his shirt on her was crumpled. The top button had come undone sometime in the night and one side had fallen down revealing a smooth shoulder, and the sunlight was hitting her just _so_, making her hair look like fire, and her green eyes look bottomless. The overall effect was enchanting, and Steve completely forgot what he was going to say and ended up just _staring_ at her, and she stared straight back like a possum caught in headlights.

He finally gathered his wits enough to ask her how she was feeling, when she attacked. He was so surprised that she got him really good with a right hook in the chin before he could scramble to defend himself.

She brought up her knee intending to hit him in the solar plexus, but he blocked her, so she brought up her other leg and kicked him square in the chest with enough force that he fell backwards onto the expensive looking glass coffee table, which promptly shattered to pieces under his weight.

He rolled over just in time to avoid a fist to the head, and sprang back to his feet. She barely gave him time to find his bearing after that; she was _relentless,_ throwing punch after punch.

"Natasha!" he dodged an elbow, "-it's _me_!" he jumped over a low leg swipe, "_Steve!_" he caught a fist aimed for his throat, and she yanked it out of his grip so forcefully that she stumbled backwards into the wall.

"Just calm dow-" she pushed off the wall and leapt toward his throat. That she was even _attempting_ this move on him was proof to Steve that she couldn't remember who he was.

She had tried it against him once when they were sparring. She never made that mistake again; he was just too big and strong for it to work.

He pushed her leg away it before could wrap around his neck, and quickly grabbed her and pulled her up so she wouldn't tumble to the floor. (It _was_ covered in shattered glass after all.)

She tried to pull her arms out of his grip so violently that Steve was afraid she was going to inadvertently dislocate her shoulders, so he pinned her by her wrists to the wall.

"Natasha, please stop-" she tried to kick him in the shin, which Steve sidestepped.

"Listen, I know you're confus-" She tried to kick him where it would _really_ hurt, which Steve _barely_ managed to dodged, so he pulled her wrists higher until her toes could only scrape the ground, and pinned her body against the wall with his own in exasperation. She struggled fiercely. Steve could feel her heart thudding far too quickly against his chest, and she was beginning to hyperventilate.

"_Natasha!_ Can you please just stop attacking me for two seconds and listen to what I have to say?!" pleaded Steve desperately.

He caught her panicked gaze and something about the look on his face must have gotten through to her because he could almost see the moment the hysteria left her eyes. Her breathing slowed to shuddering gasps and she focused on him. Steve slowly let go of her wrists and stepped back.

She sagged against the wall and slid down until she was sitting with her legs folded underneath her.

With deliberate slowness and care, Steve knelt down on one knee in front of her, mindful of the glass on the floor.

"I… I d-don't know why I attacked you," whispered Natasha hopelessly.

"Instinct," he replied with a shrug. To Steve's horror, her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. It was painfully obvious she was doing everything to hold them back.

"I nearly killed you! Your face…" she reached out a hand gingerly and Steve held perfectly still as her finger tips brushed against his chin.

"I'm fine. It's nothing," muttered Steve. Natasha sniffed and covertly wiped away a rouge tear that had managed to escape.

"Who are you? Do you know me?" she asked. Seeing her look so lost and vulnerable made Steve feel unaccountably sad.

"I'm Steve, Steve Rogers. And I do know you, we're friends."

He held out a hand. She blankly stared at it for a moment before cautiously placing her own in his.

That was the moment Jarvis chose to speak to them,

"_I have informed Mr. Stark that Ms. Romanoff has regained consciousness. He has requested that you both come up to the lab when you are ready."_

Natasha reacted dramatically, dive rolling behind the couch, and pulling Steve down with her, as if a grenade had been tossed into the room.

Steve ended up hunched over her small frame as she flattened herself against the couch and clung to his arm. He waited a beat for the raw panic to leave her eyes, and then spoke in low calming tones, "Natasha, there's no threat in this building. That was just Tony's AI."

"Are you sure?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, Tony's a friend." he replied with conviction, looking her in the eye.

She recovered more quickly this time, averting her face and hastily letting go of his arm.

"Sorry..."

Steve got to his feet and offered her a smile and another hand,

"Come on, I'll introduce you."

**Whew sorry about how long that took! This is unbeta-ed by anyone else so sorry for any typos. It took me ages to be happy with it! Did Natasha react to being memory-less how you expected? Review! (Please) **


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